


Closing For Winter

by Eastofthemoon



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Friendship/Love, Gen, Humor, life advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:31:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8387284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eastofthemoon/pseuds/Eastofthemoon
Summary: Wirt liked to think he was becoming braver as he walked through the Unknown.  So, seeing a run down cottage didn't scared one bit...it's owner though was another story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this for the Spook Me event on Dreamwidth: http://spook-me.dreamwidth.org/
> 
> The prompt was Grim Reaper, and thus I came up with this.

“What about cookies?” Greg asked as he ducked under a branch.

“No,” said Beatrice as she barely turned her head from her perch on Wirt’s shoulder.

“Pancakes?”

“No.”

“Oh, cake! Everyone can eat cake!”

Beatrice sighed. “Greg, the only thing I can eat are bugs and insects. There is no sweet or dessert that I can eat! Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What about a worm cake?” Greg said as he held up his frog. “Ramsey has a recipe for it!” The frog gave a loud croak.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” Beatrice said. “Also, I thought you named him Romeo?”

“Naw,” Greg said as he placed the frog on top of his head. “That name just brings too much trouble.”

Wirt sighed as he paused to lean against a tree. “Okay, we’ve been walking for three hours, my feet need a rest.”

“What?! No, you can take a break when we get to Adelaide’s,” Beatrice protested, but Wirt seemed to ignore her as he ventured off the road.

“If I don’t take a break now my feet will fall off,” Wirt said as he sat on a boulder. “Besides, that’s rather hypocritical of you to say since you’ve been resting on my shoulder.”

“That’s different! I have little wings!” Beatrice argued. “It takes way more effort to fly than to walk.”

Greg was oblivious to their chat, as usual, as he hummed while searching through the rocks. “See any worms for a worm cake Ramsey?”

“Croak!” the frog replied.

“Me neither,” Greg said as he grasped his chin in thought. “Maybe we should just make a blueberry crumble instead.”

Beatrice sighed and looked to Greg. “He’s not going to give up is he?”

“In my experience, no,” Wirt said flatly as he massaged his ankle. “I hope I’m not getting any blisters from this-”

“PIG!” Greg cried suddenly as he pointed ahead.

“Oh, sweet Neptune,” Beatrice muttered. “Greg, I can’t eat pork!”

“No, a pig!” Greg said with excitement as he continued to point.

Up ahead, standing at the base of an apple tree was a large grey pig that was merrily eating the fruit that had fallen to the ground.

“Where did he come from?” Wirt asked with a raised eyebrow.

Beatrice sighed as she rolled her eyes. “A better question is why should we care?”

Greg thoughtfully lowered Ramsey to the ground as the pig chomped on another apple and turned its back to him.

“Wirt, can we have a frog and a pig?” he asked earnestly.

“No, no we can not,” Wirt said firmly as he rose. “Frankly, you’ll be lucky if Mom lets you keep that frog.”

Greg didn’t seem to listen as the pig gave a snort and proceeded to walk away from them into the woods.

The boy gasped as he lifted the frog in the air. “Ramsey, quick! We have to follow it!”

“W-What? Why?” Wirt asked.

“If you follow a pig, it will bring you luck! It’s a rock fact!” Greg exclaimed, as he merrily chased after the pig.

“Greg, get back here!” Beatrice snapped as she flapped in the air. “Oh, for the love of- We need to put that kid on a leash!”

“Mom and my stepdad tried that when he was a toddler,” Writ commented dryly. “He still managed to get loose and wander off.”

Beatrice sighed as she flew ahead chasing Greg. “Come on, we'd better get him before he gets into even more trouble.”

Wirt sighed as he chased after them.

08080808080808080808080808080

Much to Wirt’s relief, the pig didn’t lead them very far, only to a small clearing where an old cottage sat, although old was an understatement. It was plain and in desperate need for a new coat of paint. The roof had holes big enough for a cat - or maybe a cow - to fall in. The windows had several cracks with spider webs covering each one and the door barely seemed to be hanging on.

“Well, this place is a dump,” Beatrice said.

“It’s not dump,” Wirt said thoughtfully. “It’s...um...a fixer upper.”

“I’ve seen rotten logs in better condition than this,” Beatrice said.

Wirt frowned as his eyes landed on the garden that had been planted near the house. There weren’t many plants growing, but there were a few. However, what especially caught his eye were the shovel and pile of dirt that Greg was currently digging his hands into.  
“See that?” he said as he pointed. “Someone dug that recently, so someone has to be living here.”

Beatrice scoff. “Who on earth would want to live here?”

“This is the pig’s cottage!” Greg declared as he scattered the dirt around. The pig in question flopped on his side for a nap as the frog croaked at him.

“And what makes you so certain?” Beatrice asked in an exasperated tone.

“Because he’s the only one here it could belong to,” Greg replied firmly.

“WELL, THERE IS ME,” a deep voice spoke from behind them. “AT LEAST, I LIKE TO BELIEVE I COUNT.”

The group turned and Wirt went pale as his eyes landed on the owner of the voice. It was a skeleton, but twice the size of the ones he had seen at Pott’s Field and ten times more menacing. 

The skeleton wore a thick black robe, and his eyes glowed a bright blue that was eerily reminiscent of moonlight on dark nights. Judging from the deep voice, Wirt could only assume the skeleton was male, but that became a minor concern when he spotted the large sword that hung off the skeleton's hip.

The most jarring aspect of this creature, however,were the shovel he carried in his other hand and the different coloured roses that had blossomed around his head and shoulders.

Wirt gulped and exchanged a look with Beatrice who held the same shocked and scared eyes. They were in instant agreement - they had to get out of here, NOW.

Greg looked thoughtful as he tilted his head. “Is the pig yours too?” he asked.

“NO,” the skeleton replied. “HE JUST WANDERS OVER HERE TO EAT THE APPLES.” His eyes flickered for a moment. “I TEND TO PREFER CATS.”

“Yup, yup, well..uh cats are great,” Wirt said as he took Greg’s hand getting ready to make a run for it. 

“Yeah,” said Beatrice with a nervous laugh. “So..uh we’ll leave you to..uh whatever is you’re doing with that foreboding shovel.”

Greg frowned and tilted his head the other way, the frog doing the same. “What are you doing with that shovel?” he asked.

“GREG!” Wirt and Beatrice cried in unison.

The skeleton blinked at the shovel and then back to the children.

“I’M CLOSING THE COTTAGE UP FOR THE WINTER,” the skeleton man said as he picked up the shovel. “I PLAN TO BURY IT.”

Wirt and Beatrice exchanged odd looks. “Um...why are you burying it?” Wirt asked, although the logical part of his brain kept yelling that he should just not ask questions and simply walk away.

“SO THE SNOW DOESN’T GET IN,” the skeleton replied as he pointed a bony hand to the cottage. 

“That seems reasonable!” Greg declared with a nod.

“Wait, wait,” Beatrice said as she flapped her wings, briefly abandoning thoughts of leaving. “Why would you do that when you could just, oh I don’t know, fill in the holes in the roof?”

The skeleton blinked and grasped his chin. “IS THAT WHAT THE ROOF IS FOR?”

“Generally, yes,” Wirt replied as he took Greg’s hand and slowly began to back away. 

“I SEE,” the skeleton said softly. “THIS IS MY FIRST TIME OWNING A COTTAGE AND I AM UNSURE OF WHAT I SHOULD DO.”

“Oh, well, you’ll figure it out,” Wirt said as he tried to tug Greg along, but the boy was determined to stay in one spot. “Just read a couple of books. You’ll be fine-”

“Do you want some help?” Greg asked with a smile as the frog hopped to his side. “Ramsey is a professional cottage prepare for winter type person.”

The frog croaked and looked less than enthused by the idea.

“Greg, no!” Wirt and Beatrice hissed in unison.

The skeleton glanced to the cottage and watched as a roof tile fell off. He narrowed his eyes, although due to the lack of eyebrows, Wirt wasn’t certain if the skeleton was annoyed or not.

“SOME HELP WOULD BE APPRECIATED,” the skeleton said.

_NNNOOO,_ Wirt thought silently, but didn’t dare voice his utter despair. What devious pawn of fate had ensnared them into these dire circumstances?!

Oh, right...it was Greg.

“THANK YOU,” the skeleton replied. “IF YOU NEED TO CALL ME A NAME, I HAVE USED BILL SKY BEFORE.” 

Greg smiled and waved. “Well, my name is-”

“GREG,” the skeleton man said as he pointed to each of them. “AND HE IS YOUR BROTHER WIRT AND THE BIRD IS NAMED BEATRICE.” His eyes narrowed slightly and flickered. “I MAKE CERTAIN TO KNOW OF THESE THINGS IN MY LINE OF WORK.”

“What line of work exactly?” Beatrice asked as she landed on Wirt’s shoulder.

“COLLECTIONS,” Bill simply replied and he turned back to the cottage with a shovel in hand. “NOW SHALL WE START ON THAT ROOF?”

“Well...uh..you see we would, wait you’re just going to walk away from me?” Wirt watched helplessly as ‘Bill’ and Greg walked away from him and Beatrice.

“Going to fix a cottage! Going to fix a cottage!” Greg sang.

“I DON’T BELIEVE THAT RHYMES,” Bill commented.

“That’s the beauty of music,” Greg said cheerfully. “It doesn’t have to.”

“I SEE,” Bill replied. “INTERESTING.”

Wirt sighed and glanced to Beatrice. “I could just pick up Greg and run.”

“Yes, but then you might tick off skeleton man there,” Beatrice commented. “And I already got cursed once in my life, I rather avoid that again if I could.”

Wirt raised an eyebrow at the comment. “What do you mean by curse?”

Beatrice coughed and hastily flew towards the cottage. “Come on! Get your butt moving! The roof won’t fix itself!”

Wirt sighed and slowly forced his feet to move towards the cottage.

0808080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080

Wirt had never done house repairs besides that one time his stepfather had asked for his help in fixing the dishwasher, and that was hardly a success with the miniature lake they had created in the kitchen.

It didn’t help matters that Bill clearly knew nothing about house repair. They had to explain to him that he couldn’t just nail the door shut because then they would have no way of getting back out of the house.

“WHAT IF I MADE A HOLE IN THE WALL?” Bill asked.

“Then you’re basically back to your first problem of an open door,” Wirt explained.

“I SEE,” Bill said in a intrigued voice. “I SHALL REMEMBER THAT.”

With Greg being just about as bad as Bill, it was left to Wirt and Beatrice to instruct what they need to repair and even between the two of them it was mostly guesswork.

Wirt was terrified of falling off the roof as he and Bill covered the holes with lumber.

“DO NOT WORRY,” Bill had said as he handed Wirt the hammer. “I AM CERTAIN YOU WILL NOT DIE TODAY.”

_That somehow doesn't reassure me,_ Wirt thought, as he took a nail and hammered it in.

He could feel Bill’s eyes, or his sockets if that was the better word, watch him silently as he hammered in each nail. The guy was strangely fascinated by the stuff, and for some reason that just put Wirt more on edge.

“YOU HAVE A VERY PECULIAR HAT,” Bill stated.

Wirt blinked and without realizing it, reached for his head. “Um..well, it’s just an old hat I found in my mom’s trunk.”

“IT IS VERY POINTY,” Bill said as he passed over another nail.

Wirt wasn’t certain how he was suppose to take the comment. “Do you...like pointy hats.”

“I NEVER GAVE IT MUCH THOUGHT,” Bill remarked. “I HAVE SIMPLY BEEN MAKING A HABIT OF NOTICING THESE THINGS.”

“I see,” Wirt said as he went back to hammering. “If you don’t mind me asking, but how did you get those flowers on your back?”

Wirt prayed Bill wasn’t offended by the question, but it was a question that had been bugging him for the past hour.

Bill glanced over his shoulder and fingered one of the flowers. “COTTAGES HAVE GARDENS, AT LEAST FROM WHAT I HAVE BEEN TOLD.”

“Uh, yes, a lot do,” Wirt replied as he finished hammering in the name.

“WELL, ONE GROWS FLOWERS WHILE GARDENING, CORRECT?” Bill replied firmly.

Wirt lifted and lowered a hand before deciding to scratch his neck. “Well...you’re not wrong.” 

It became quiet again as Wirt continued to hammer. He had to admit, Bill didn’t seem evil. He was a bit confusing, and at times rather ominous, but he seemed almost curious on how things worked.

_Maybe he knows how to get to Aldelaide’s,_ Wirt thought. _Worst case he doesn’t know...right?_

“YOU HAVE A QUESTION,” Bill suddenly stated matter of factly and caused Wirt to jump.

“How did you know that?” Wirt asked. _Please, PLEASE, don’t tell me he’s been a mind reader all this time._

“YOU HAVE THAT LOOK HUMANS HAVE WHEN THEY WISH TO ASK ME SOMETHING,” Bill replied. “I GET THAT LOOK A LOT, THOUGH OFTEN WITH OBVIOUS ANSWERS.” 

He waved a bone hand at him. “GO AHEAD, I WILL ANSWER, BUT I CANNOT PROMISE AN ANSWER YOU WILL UNDERSTAND.”

“Uh...okay,” Wirt replied as he lowered the hammer. “Do you know how to find Aldelaide? The Good Woman of the Woods?”

Bill blinked at him and scratched his bony chin. “THEY CALL HER THAT NOW, DO THEY?”

“Uh..yes,” Wirt replied. So, he had heard of her.

“AND WHY DO YOU WISH TO SEE HER?” Bill replied.

“So, she can send my brother and I home,” Wirt explained as he straightened his posture.

Bill tilted his head. “YOU WISH TO SEE ALDELAIDE...SO SHE CAN SEND YOU HOME?”

Wirt nodded. 

Bill sighed and shook his head. “THIS HAS INDEED BEEN A VERY CONFUSING DAY.”

“Huh?” Wirt asked, sounding equally as confused.

“I DO NOT CONCERN MYSELF WITH WHERE PEOPLE LIVE, ONLY WHERE THEY WILL END UP.” Bill replied and then shook a finger. “TO GO BACK HOME, I WOULD SUGGEST YOU THINK ON HOW YOU CAME TO BE HERE.”

Wirt frowned and he folded his arms. “Sorry...but I don’t get it.”

“MOST DO NOT, UNTIL THEY DO,” said Bill and gave a bit of a grin.

Wirt wanted to press the issue more, but at that moment, Beatrice flew up and landed on the roof.

“Alright, so Greg and I have finished boarding up the windows, and cleaning out the woodstove inside,” Beatrice said as she pointed below. “I don't know why there were loaves of bread in there and I'm not going to ask. So, after you’re done up here I’m not sure what else to do next.”

Wirt thought quietly as he folded his arms. “Um...I think we just need to drain the pipes for water so they don’t freeze.”

Bill tilted his head at the group. “ARE COTTAGES SUPPOSED TO HAVE WATER?” 

Wirt exchanged a baffled look with Beatrice before speaking. “Um...you don’t have to, you just use water for you know drinking...and washing.”

“I DO NEITHER OF THOSE THINGS,” Bill replied.

“I guess we don’t have to worry too much about the water in the pipes then,” Beatrice commented. “So I guess we're done here and can leave forever, we just need the keys and we can lock the whole place up.”

“I DON’T HAVE KEYS,” Bill replied.

Wirt and Beatrice exchanged a look. “Um..why?”

“BECAUSE IT IS MY COTTAGE, WHY WOULD I NEED TO LOCK THE DOOR?” Bill said in a deeper voice than before.

“Oookkay, and we’re done here,” Beatrice said as she flew back down. “Come on, Wirt!”

Wirt looked back to Bill, his comments still ringing in his mind, but sighed as he climbed back down the ladder. 

_He’s kind of not all there anyway,_ Wirt thought. _He’s probably just rambling anyway._

That’s what Wirt wanted to believe, except somewhere in the back of his mind he felt like he was missing something very important.

0808080808080808080808080808080808080808080

Greg grinned as he held up his frog. “Ramsey declares this cottage officially winter ready!”

The frog blinked and replied with a sharp ribbit as he nodded solemnly.

Bill glanced to the building with what seemed like a thoughtful look. “THANK YOU, ALTHOUGH I CURRENTLY HAVE NO TYPE OF CURRENCY TO PAY YOU. FEW HAVE TAKEN THE TROUBLE TO GIVE ME COINS OF LATE.”

“Oh, uh, no need,” Wirt said as he raised his hands. “People often say doing the good deed is it’s own reward.”

“PERHAPS,” Bill replied as he reached into his robe. “STILL, I FEEL I SHOULD AT LEAST OFFER YOU THIS.” With his bony hand Bill brought forth a small pouch tied with a string.

“Is it a magic tiger?” Greg asked hopefully. “I keep asking for that, but I haven’t gotten any luck with it lately.”

“NO,” Bill replied as he dropped the pouch into Wirt’s hands. 

Wirt gave the bag a shaky look. What if it’s something creepy like human fingers, or eyeballs? Would I have to eat one? Oh no, he would probably get offended and then-

“Wirt, open the bag already,” Beatrice snapped.

“Uh, right,” Wirt said and gradually untied the string and then took a deep breath before looking inside...to which he felt very foolish. “Candy?”

He reached inside and held out one of the brightly wrapped pieces of candy.

“IT IS TOFFEE,” Bill replied. “A LADY MISTOOK ME FOR BEING IN COSTUME AND GAVE ME SOME ON MY LAST OUTING.” He gave a shrug. “I HAVE NO USE FOR THEM AND UNDERSTAND THAT CHILDREN ENJOY THEM.”

Greg frowned as he reached into the pouch. “I'd still prefer a magical tiger.” He grinned as he unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. “But this is good too, and it hasn't even been in my pants!”

“Uh, thank you,” Wirt replied as he tied up the pouch. “This was honestly a surprise.”

“JUST MAKE CERTAIN YOU DON’T CHOKE ON THEM,” Bill warned as he folded his arms. “I HAVE COME UPON THAT PROBLEM MORE OFTEN THAN ONE WOULD EXPECT IN MY LINE OF WORK.”

“Rrriigghhttt,” Beatrice said as she flew in the air. “Well, if that’s everything, we should really be going-”

“THERE IS ONE MORE GIFT,” Bill replied as he raised a hand like a teacher. “TWO PIECES OF ADVICE.” 

His empty socket eyes narrowed slightly. “ALL LIES WILL EVENTUALLY COME TO LIGHT, NO MATTER HOW DEEPLY THEY ARE BURIED.”

Beatrice seemed to flinch a little at that.

“SECONDLY, MEMORIES ARE HARSHER THAN THE EVENTS THAT HAVE PASSED,” Bill continued, and Wirt couldn’t help but notice he was looking in his direction as he said that.

Greg raised a hand. “What if you got your arm chewed off by a magical tiger in a dream?”

Bill went silent and tilted his head. “THAT… IS NOT NORMAL.”

Wirt tucked the bag under his cape and took Greg’s hand. “And I think that’s our cue to leave. Goodbye, Bill!”

"GOOD LUCK, YOU THREE,” Bill said as he waved. “AND REMEMBER... EVERYTHING ENDS."

No one uttered a word until they were back on the road and Beatrice let out the air she’d been holding in.

“I’m glad to have THAT over with,” she declared. “That guy was creepy.”

Wirt frowned. “You know, he wasn’t that bad. I mean maybe a bit odd, but he was kind of helpful...I think.”

“Yeah, he was nice,” Greg said as he lifted his frog. “Right, Peter!”

“He’s name is Peter now?” Beatrice asked in disbelief and shook her head. “Never mind, I should really learn not to ask.”

Wirt gave the bird a small smile as they continued their journey on the road, and hopefully once they see Adelaide they would be on their way back home.

**Author's Note:**

> For those wondering, yes I am totally basing the Grim Reaper here off of Death from Discworld because it fit and he is the best version of the Death ever. LOL Thanks for reading!


End file.
